“Driven off!” cried Blake, as he and Joe got the final pictures of this drama—­a drama that had come so near being a tragedy.  “They’ve beaten her off!”

“But we’re not safe yet!” cried Charlie.  “She may shoot another torpedo at us from under water—­she can do that, all right!  Look out, boys!”

There was need of this, yet it was impossible to do more toward saving one’s life than to take to the boats.  And even that, under the inhuman and ruthless system of the Huns, was no guarantee that one would be saved.  Lifeboats had, more than once, been shelled by Germans.

The appearance of the submarine had added to the panic caused by the sight of the periscope, and there was a rush for the boats that took all the power and authority of the officers to manage it.

There was a period of anxious waiting, but either the submarine had no other torpedoes, or, if she did fire any, they went wide, or, again, the gunfire from the vessel may have disabled her entirely.  She did not again show herself above the surface.  Even the periscope was not observed.

Having nothing to picture, Blake and Joe turned away from the camera for a moment.  Some of the lifeboats had already been filled with their loads when Charlie, pointing to something afar off, cried: 

“Here comes another boat!”

On the horizon a dense cloud of black smoke showed.

CHAPTER IX

SUSPICIONS

For a moment there was more terror and excitement aboard the Jeanne, if it were possible, after it became certain that another craft, the nature of which none knew, was headed toward the French steamer.  Then an officer gifted with sound common-sense, cried out in English, so that the majority could understand: 

“It is a destroyer!  It is a destroyer belonging to the Stars and Stripes coming to our rescue.  Three cheers!”

Nobody gave the three cheers, but it heartened every one to hear them called for, and the real meaning of the smoke was borne to all.

“Of course it can’t be a submarine!” exclaimed Blake.  “They don’t send out any smoke, and there aren’t any other German boats at sea.  It’s a destroyer!”

“One of ours, do you think?” asked Charlie.

“Perhaps.  Uncle Sam has a lot of ’em over here to act as convoys.  Probably this is our escort coming up a little late to the ball,” said Joe.

“But we did very well by ourselves,” observed Blake.  “It was a narrow squeak, though.”

And indeed it was a narrow escape.  The Jeanne had, unaided, driven off the undersea boat, and perhaps had damaged her by the rain of shot and shell poured at her steel sides.  They could not feel sure of this, though, for the approach of the destroyer was probably known to the submarine, for they have underwater telephones which tell them, by means of the throbbing of the screws and propellers in the water, just about how far away another ship is, and what speed she is making, as well as the direction from which she is coming.